Insulation

Today I read something a friend wrote in which she described me, along with others, as being insulated by books. I chuckled, but then realized that she's right. I do use books as insulation.

When things get too hectic and stress builds, I often insulate myself from the madness by rereading old favorites. It serves to create a familiar place in the middle of chaos and uncertainty.

When faced with long, cold winter days or steamy hot summers, I insulate myself from the elements by literally surrounding my favorite spot of the sofa with new reading material.

When there are appointments to keep and children to taxi to and from lessons, I insulate myself against the cracks in time by tucking a book or magazine into my large slouchy bag.

I use books as insulation all the time--to keep in the happy or ward off the stress, to keep my cool or warm my soul. Books temper me. They keep my mental and emotional climate stable. Books as insulation. Who knew?

BONS at my house

The BONS (my writing group) were at my house tonight. It was super fun and I love that they all came and stayed until late. We always leave feeling so energized. But I'm tired now--winding down--so this slice will be a short list of tonight's highlights.

1. making a meal out of our favorite cold appetizers and desserts
2. washing it down with berry lemonade and lingering conversation
3. my family and BONS meeting each other
4. sharing our writing pieces, progress and stumbling blocks
5. giving and getting feedback and encouragement
6. my daughter giving everyone pedicures (massage and pretty painted toenails!) while we worked
7. a special stone with a message for each of us
8. a break to swim in the pool
9. ice cream from the local stand--raspberry, lemon, butter pecan, and peanut butter
10. more talking, more laughing, and plans to meet again

Night Swim

When the pool water warms and days stay hot until after bedtime
it's time for a night swim.
Suits are pulled on and towels dropped poolside,
but voices stay low and lights off.
Only the single underwater light glows,
shifting white yellow green blue red purple.
One by one we step quietly into the still water
and slip below the surface.

Night swims are hushed and slower than daytime,
with no cannonballs or splashing.
We glide underwater, back and forth,
twirling, graceful merpeople just for a night.
Fireflies light up the yard and hover in the air
and the moon peeks from behind sparse clouds.
One by one, we start to float,
looking for stars and softly naming constellations.

After a while, when fingers and toes turn pruney,
and we are floating and gliding silently,
we know it's time.
The night swim is almost over, but we hold on
just a little longer.
Because night swims are anticipated for weeks
and talked about for months.
So we stay just a few more minutes.

Caught

I only meant to sit for a minute,
but I leaned back and
felt the breeze skip over my skin and ruffle my hair.
I closed my eyes and felt the sun's early morning light
warming the back of the chair.

It was all over after that;
the chair kept calling me back,
first to finish--the rest of the coffee, the last chapters of the book.
The sun crept around the corner of the house
to finish warming my winter-chilled toes.

Later I found myself in the chair again;
it wasn't planned, but it happened anyway,
this time to start--the next book, the first of the summer ice cream cones.
The breeze danced across the porch,
tempering the heat of afternoon sun.

I only meant to sit for a minute,
but I leaned back and
slowly but surely, between the warm sun and gentle breeze
pieces of a whole day slid by in that chair
at the end of the porch.

Reasons Why

The reason I don't read suspense novels when I'm home alone at night is that I don't work out and have never taken a self-defense course.. If a bad guy is hiding under the bed waiting to grab me when I'm looking for my slippers, I won't be able to punch him out or outrun him.

The reason I eat big bowls of popcorn several times a week is heredity. I inherited an unstoppable craving from my mother who says she inherited it from her father. You can't pick your gene pool.

The reason I read a lot is that I am pretty sure I have an addiction problem and I've heard terrible stories about what happens during withdrawal. My family does not deserve anything I might be capable of if I quit reading.

The reason I eat the rest of the cookies in the package or the chocolates in the bag is so they can't tempt me. Removing temptation is how you avoid things like eating to many cookies or too much chocolate. No more cookies or chocolate = no more temptation.

The reason I let my daughter be in charge of painting my toenails is that it means I don't have to bend over as much. Also, I can keep reading my book and still have pretty toenails, and sometimes she throws in a foot massage.

The reason I had to come up with an idea to slice tonight is that I actually miss it a little when I don't. And also I'm a little bit afraid that the BONS or my rouge-book-club-turned-slicers will be disappointed or will call me to rub it in that they sliced and I didn't.

Perfect Porch

I love my front porch. It's deeper than most and is as long as our house is wide. There is a little space to the right as you come out the door--just enough room for a  bench big enough to hold 2 or 3 kids waiting for a bus or for company to come down the street. To the right is the big space. The space big enough for 2 rocking chairs and one adirondack chair and 2 small tables with plenty of room left over.

Youngest has enlisted Grandpa's help in attracting hummingbirds, and this year's new feeder hangs near the far end of the porch. There is often a ball next to the bench by the front door, and the bench itself tends to collect leftovers from long, full summer days--picnic blankets, a stray book, someone's skateboard.

When they were smaller, Oldest, Middle and Youngest used to play on the porch. Rainy days were best, because we stayed dry while surrounded by the rain, playing happily with little cars, sidewalk chalk and bubbles. We stayed cool in the shade when the sun was hot, and the rocking chairs were the perfect spot to keep watch as they climbed the front yard tree or rode bikes and scooters up and down the sidewalk. I still watch as they hang out with friends up and down the street, and sometimes catch a handful of kids lounging on the porch or hear quiet chatter from a pair rocking and planning the rest of their day.

My parents like to sit on my porch when they visit. Dad takes his coffee out and sits and rocks and listens and watches. Even though we're in town, there is almost always birdsong. It's a good spot to keep track of the coming and going and in and out at our house, and it's nice to pull into my driveway and see my parents and kids on the porch relaxing and waiting for me and Husband to get home.

I also love to spend time on the porch. My favorite times are when it's warm enough to sit for a long time without getting chilly and before the late-day sun sinks far enough to shine directly into my westward-facing eyes. Like my dad, I love to take my coffee out in the mornings and sit and listen and watch. Like my mom, I almost always take along a book, and sometimes I take along some writing I'm working on. Our porch is just right for lunch outside and popsicles or ice cream cones. The first time we looked at this house, I fell in love with the porch and it hasn't disappointed. I knew when we bought the house that I needed the rocking chairs. I spent a couple of summers waiting until I found the adirondack chair that fit me well and matched the rest.

Now the chairs call me to come sit and rock or sit back and hold still. Now I have places for people and places for coffee cups and glasses of lemonade and long summer hours to enjoy it all.
Now it's simply perfect.

Summer Talk

The things I hear from Oldest, Middle, and Youngest are different in the summer. I like it. A lot.

"Mom, what day is it today? Wait....never mind!"

"This is the way all mornings should be."
"Can we have popsicles?"

"What's for breakfast? Or lunch? What time is it anyway?"

"Have another popsicle."
"We're going on another bike ride. See you later."
"I'm taking my book out to the tree."

"Aw, just jump in with your clothes on."

"Do we need shoes for this?"
"We're just gonna run around outside a while."
"Are there any more water balloons?"

"Hey--it's way past my bedtime. Does that matter?"
"I'm getting a popsicle for J. too. I'll be at her house."
"Can I invite E. to have a picnic?"
"I mowed, so I have enough money...can I bike to get ice cream?"
"I mowed, so I have money...can I call A. or S. or somebody to go to the movies?"
"I'm gonna take my lunch to the porch and read while I eat."
"Are we out of popsicles?"

They come and they go, and between lessons and back and forth with friends and cousins, I'm having trouble remembering the day and keeping track of the time too.

But I do know we need more popsicles.